


With a Head Full of Dreams

by Peanutbutterer



Category: 12 Monkeys (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 03:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7150769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanutbutterer/pseuds/Peanutbutterer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate ending to Lullaby (2x08), wherein Cole gets to Cassie after their talk and before she returns to her room to find Ramse there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Head Full of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> For Kakinou. Draah-mah warning. Apparently in the 10 months since I've written a word I've built up a large reserve of emo ;)

Cole closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and follows after her. He’s not going to let her go -- not like this. He’s fought for so much already, he can’t bow out when it matters most.

“Cassie!” he calls, jogging after her, “Cassie, wait!”

She stops and turns as he comes into the hall, her eyes big and sad and her pain crashes into him like a wave. He feels it in the deepest parts of him, chokes on it and he hesitates. His fingers tingle and his lungs contract and he can’t be sure he’s doing the right thing, can’t be sure of anything -- except that he needs to try.

“Cole,” she tries to wave him off, “I’m tired.”

“I know,” he says, his own words catching him by surprise. He’s not sure how he mustered the breath to vocalize them, the pressure inside him almost too much to bear. “I am too, but, Cassie --”

“I can’t be hurt anymore.” She doesn’t meet his gaze, her eyes landing instead on the wall beside him. She's not the same Cassie as before. Her round, soft edges are now sinewy and sharp. Her words are too. “I won’t survive it.”

_You won’t survive anything_ , he thinks and the force that’s gripping his lungs squeezes even tighter. “You were right when you said it's the losing that haunts us.”

He steps forward, but not enough to eliminate the distance between them. Her eyes flit up to his before falling to her hands and he wills himself to be bolder. He reminds himself that words are his most powerful weapon -- that his words have changed the course of history. He just has to make her see what he sees. “You don’t remember the first time I met you.”

She looks up at that, confusion pinching the corners of her eyes, briefly edging out the pain. “It wasn’t in the car after my lecture?”

“That was my second trip to find you.”

Her twisting fingers still. “When?”

“2043.”

“But --”

“Ramse and I went to the CDC, to what was left of it. We were sent to get your watch. Jones knew I’d need something to convince you, a way to show you that time travel was real.”

The confusion in her eyes loses its hold and pain floods back in.

“The first time I met you, Cassie, you were already dead.” He’s speaking now despite a complete lack of breath, the words coming from somewhere he can’t identify, in some way he can’t explain. He steps up to her, close enough to touch, close enough that she can hear him whisper, “The losing is all I’ve ever known.”

He aches to brush away the tears that spill down her cheeks. She does it for him.

“I want to know something else.” He wants to feel something else, to feel that warmth he’s only gotten a glimpse of. “Can’t you see that? Can’t you understand?”

“It would make everything so much more painful.”

“More painful?” He scrubs his hands over his face, voice rising as a new emotion courses through him. “More painful doesn’t exist. Cassie, you died in my arms!”

“So stop,” she yells, something else coursing through her as well. “Stop holding on to me!”

She swipes fiercely at her tears, her eyes red and full of fire. He reaches for her but she shakes him off.

“It’s too hard," she insists. "This will only make it harder.”

“What will? Happiness? Is that what you’re afraid of?” She wraps her arms around herself and he takes a breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Happiness won’t make the tragedy any more tragic, Cassie.”

“You don’t know that.”

She’s right, he doesn’t, but he has to believe. “It can’t. I’m maxed out on tragedy. I want something else. Even if it’s only for a moment. I need something else.” He brings his hand up to her elbow, and when she doesn’t pull away he trails it up and grips her arm. “I need _you_.”

Her eyes meet his and he can see the pain, the fear, the sadness, and maybe, just maybe, a tiny glimmer of hope.

“I know it’s not going to be a happy ending,” he tells her, his voice almost pleading. “I’m not under any illusions.”

“Then why do we bother?” 

“Because it’s not about the ending. It's not about the beginning.” He brings his other hand up to hold her. “It’s about the middle.”

It’s Cassie who closes the distance, bringing her lips up to meet his. They’re salty from the tears, but sweeter than anything he can remember.

Her hands find his back, fingers gripping the loose fabric of his shirt. He pulls her in closer, deepening the kiss, the contact.

His lungs still ache but he’s never breathed easier.

She pulls away, meeting his gaze for a only moment before dropping her head to his chest. She presses herself into him, the warmth of her tears soaking through to his skin.

Just for a moment he envisions a world that neither starts nor stops -- a world that's a never-ending now.

He mumbles quiet promises and holds her close as she cries.


End file.
